Sirius
by Sometimesidothewriting
Summary: Just a one-shot that I wrote about what it was like for Sirius to grow up the only Gryffindor in a Slytherin family. It's not graphic, but a bit of violence. Decided to post in sections instead of all at once.
1. Part One

**Eleven - Summer After Year One **

I really wasn't sure what to expect from my parents when they found out I was Gryffindor. I wasn't expecting them to be pleased, of course. This was MY family after all. The Blacks. A long, unending legacy of Slytherins. Guess who had the wonderful luck of being the first Black in over fifty generations to be in a different house. Yep. That's right. Lucky me. Lucky little Sirius.

We hadn't really gotten along before I went to Hogwarts. I hadn't exactly tried to hide the fact that I disagreed with my parents. Disagreed about their support of The Dark Lord and his reign of terror. Disagreed with their cruel and horrible treatment of anyone Muggle, MuggleBorn, or HalfBlood. My parents hadn't tried to hide the fact that they thought I was "too soft" to be a Black. They peppered me with insults since I was eight years old and had smiled at a muggle boy my age from across the street.

I had managed to keep the fact that I was in Gryffindor from them all school year. Keeping letter brief and to a minimum. Avoiding holidays at home due to "way too much homework." But now that I was home for the summer, there was no way to hide it. They saw the Gryffindor Crest embroidered on my robes. The scarf. The Qudditch robes. The flag.

As I said, I wasn't sure how I expected my parents to react. Probably screaming. Almost definitely name calling. Maybe locking me in my bedroom for a couple hours to a couple days as they always did when they got REALLY angry. The only thing I hadn't considered was my Dad's fist connecting with my jaw, sending my slight, eleven year old frame sprawling onto the kitchen floor.

The beatings, or at least their frequency, decreased slowly over the summer. Not out of regret or acceptance, but out of discretion. He didn't want the bruises to be noticable. They weren't.

No one except for James noticed that something was wrong. My best friend. But when I hastily and bitterly snapped that nothing was wrong, he dropped the subject.

**I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. ALL CHARACTER, RIGHTS, ETC. BELONG TO J. K. ROWLING, THE FANTASTICALLY AMAZING AUTHOR OF HARRY POTTER! :D**


	2. Part Two

**Thanks for reading this.**

**Sorry I didn't update sooner! I planned to have it all up the first day I uploaded it because it was all written, but, well... I'm lazy. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of it's characters, or the idea of Sirius being mistreated as a boy. That was implied in the books too!**

**So it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

TWELEVE – SUMMER AFTER YEAR TWO

It was even worse this year. The beatings. My brother did nothing to help, traitorous little moron that he was. He, of course, was in Slytherin. My parents were so proud of that little snot. "Mummy's little angel."

Regulus sat there and watched as my father beat me until I was bruised and bloodied. Even laughed. Offered "helpful" tips to my father as to what type of blow where would hurt me more.

And every single time I was warned. Never managed to escape, but prepared myself. Every time the beating began, it started with my name, Gryffindor, and a string of unrepeatable curse words.

I simply cried when my mother walked by, kicked me in the ribs, and stalked off, laughing.

**:'(**

**Reviews would make poor little Sirius feel better.**

**~hugs Sirius!~**


	3. Part Three

**Sorry about the funky formatting the first chapter. I uploaded it via my iPod, and it messed with it. It should be fixed now though! :)**

**Here's the next part! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters, ideas, places, etc. I just wrote the story.**

**All rights and such belong to J.K. Rowling.**

THIRTEEN – SUMMER **BEFORE **YEAR THREE

It didn't hurt as much anymore.

The beatings had become so frequent, I nearly didn't feel them anymore. The bruises, mottled and purple across my skin, almost didn't hurt. I was so used to the pain that it barely bothered me. I didn't even realize it until the night before my return to Hogwarts for my third year.

Normally after being beaten viciously by my father, I was full of emotion. Pain. Horror. Anger. Relief that it was over. Sadness. Utter exhaustion. But now, this time, the only thing I could feel coursing through my body. Skipping through my heart with it beat. Pounding in my brain. Sliding through my veins with the blood. Coloring my skin. Shining in my eyes.

Hate.

Pure, unadulterated hate. Glowing in my eyes as I quivered in the corner.

Later that night as I sat in my bedroom window seat, I was numb. Not physically. Physically I hurt. I ached. I burned.

Emotionally I was dead. I couldn't feel. I wanted to feel. I longed to feel. I craved it.

And that night was the first that took a razor to my wrist.

**Review please?**

**This is the first time I've ever written anything like this. With the self-harm and I have no experience with it, so does it seem realistic.**

**And I hope the abuse thing from his family isn't too bad. I've attempted to write it before because well, it's a fact of life and if people can relate it to characters they're familiar with it will raise awareness. But I, thankfully, have no experience with that either, so I REALLY want to make sure it's realistic but not too graphic and violent either...**

**If that makes sense...**


	4. Part Four

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any part of it. They belong to J.K. Rowling**

THIRTEEN – WINTER OF THIRD YEAR

I sat shakily on the edge of my bed, wrists on my knees, head hanging loosely.

The cold, inviting metal bit into my flesh. The blood slipped through the tiny sit in my skin. The thin blade slipped through my fingers and hit the floor with a small "ping." My eyes slowly fluttered shut.

It felt good to feel. Feel pain. Feel confusion.

Footsteps echoed up the staircase. My eyes snapped open. I pulled the black cloth band back over my lightly scarred wrist. Set my foot on top of the blade and slid it under my bed. Just in time too.

The moment the blade had disappeared into the shadows under the bed, the door swung open and James, Peter, and Remus piled into the room.

James' cheerful grin vanished from his face the moment he saw me. He sat down next to me.

"Hey, what's wrong."

"Nothing." **Everything.**

James raised an unbelieving quizzical eyebrow. "Sirius, don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." **I'm lying. Please help me. I want out. Please save me James. My best friend. My brother. Help me.**

James shook his head and stood. "Alright. You sure?"

"Positive. I'm going to go down and get some supper." I stood. **Please don't let me go. I'm lying. Don't let me walk out of here. Make me tell you. Force me to sit down and spill out my heart. Please. Stop me.**

James just nods and I exit the room. A tear slipping, unbidden, from the corner of my eye.

**Please review!**

**~Donna**


	5. Part Five

**This ones really short. Sorry. :(**

**But I had it written into sections for a reason! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter.**

Harry's Fifth Year – Christmas

It had been wonderful. Almost like having James back. Almost. But now Harry was gone too. And I was alone. All alone.

I missed James so much sometimes. It ached. He had been my best friend. My confidant. The one I went to when it hurt. When I was scared. The one I went to instead of the blade. My brother.

I retreated to my bedroom and did something I hadn't in a long, long time.

I picked up the razor from my desk.

**Told you it was short. Reviews will make it seem longer. ;)**

**~Donna**


	6. Part Six

**Here it is, my friends. The final section.**

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Harry Potter.**

Department of Mysteries

Bellatrix's curse hit me square in the chest. Grin still frozen in place, I fell backwards. The last thing I saw before my eyes went out of focus was Harry's stunned face.

But my eyes were slowly refocusing. And Harry's face was becoming clearer in my vision.

Only it wasn't saddened. It was grinning.

And it wasn't Harry's face. It was James.

A blinding white light surrounded me. And, laughing like the mad man I was thought to be, I ran to embrace my brother.

**And they all lived... erm.. died, happily ever after.**

**The end!**

**So, what did you guys think?**

**Sorry it took so long to get it all uploaded.**

**And do you think it's better in sections? Or should I just make it into a one-shot?**

**Hope you liked it!**

**~Donna**


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